Page 56 of A Reckless Memory

“How are you doing, kitty?” I cooed.

“She did just fine. Still a little groggy, and she’s not a fan of the cone of shame.”

Ansen had picked up a fabric cone-type contraption that should be easier for Fancy to wear. I could swap them out when I got her home. Seeing her like this, doped up with a shaved belly, gave me pause. Ansen had set up an old, large dog kennel I’d had in the shop for Fancy’s recovery, but I hated to keep her in this while the outside temperature was dropping.

After the tech rattled off instructions, I paid and loaded Fancy on the floor of the back seat. In the pickup, I called Sutton.

Her voice floated through Bluetooth. “You miss me already?”

“Always. I have a drowsy cat who is sans one uterus, and I thought of you.”

“People always do when it comes to cat uteri.”

“Put that on your business card.” I grinned and pulled out of the parking lot. Time for the reason I really called. “There’s been a new development.”

“You slept with him.”

“Sutton, dammit. Yes.”

A scandalized gasp filled the cab. “You did?”

I had to tell her it wasn’t an impulsive, thoughtless move. “He kept Mama’s books all these years, and he fixed them as best he could.”

“Gah, that’s sweet. He should give lessons.”

“So you can sign Wilder up?” I joked.

“I don’t think Ansen has a thick enough marker to spell it out for my husband.”

I laughed, but she couldn’t see my grimace. I never interfered in my brothers’ relationships, and it wasn’t like they’d have listened to me anyway, but should I say something to Wilder? Don’t fuck up and lose her. Did you marry Sutton or your job?

“Is it weird to be, like, back in a thing with him?” she asked. “This isn’t like meeting a guy and going on a few dates.”

“It’s different but the same.”

We were different but the same. Maybe I was more different than him.

“You’re sure he’s not buttering up his boss?”

“He did a lot more than buttering.” The quickie inside the barn this morning was cold and hot at the same time. I’d frozen my ass off while letting the chickens out, but he’d warmed me up to a point I could’ve stripped everything off again. “We’re going on an official date this weekend.”

“Like a fancy restaurant date?”

“Wings and darts.”

“Oh my god, he remembers. How long has it been since you’ve played darts?”

I bit my bottom lip. The answer was easy enough to remember. But for a girl who’d been determined not to let her life get controlled by a guy, I’d also quit doing some activities I enjoyed because of them. “Since before Lawson.”

“I don’t take uptight Penley for a darts guy.”

He hadn’t been. Before him, I’d been flying through college as fast as I could and hadn’t had time. I missed my old dart league in Buffalo Gully.

I’d thrived on playing in my hometown. Guys who’d thought little of me in high school got their asses cleaned during league. I had a good arm and a sharp eye, and Ansen had delighted in my wins. No sign of jealousy.

I had never played with Lawson, but I doubt he’d have thrown one more dart if I’d beat him. “Maybe Ansen wants to try to kick my ass.”

“Tell me how it goes,” Sutton said.

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